


but you can make me a drink

by firewordsparkler



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 05:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13652496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewordsparkler/pseuds/firewordsparkler
Summary: Today, Eric Bittle is twenty-one.Jack Zimmermann doesn’t want him anymore, not more than a Stanley Cup at least, and today, Eric Bittle is also lonely.So, he packs a bag and takes it to Las Vegas to celebrate his twenty-first birthday in style.Written for Bitty's Valentines, for the lovely 17piesinseptember.





	but you can make me a drink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writingonpostcards](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/gifts).



****Today, Eric Bittle is twenty-one.

Jack Zimmermann doesn’t want him anymore, not more than a Stanley Cup at least, and today, Eric Bittle is also lonely.

But he’s single, hot, and can officially drink at the bars. So, he cashes in some of his AdSense revenue, asks his mom for a little bit of help, and invites the boys to book their plane tickets.

Because it’s Eric Bittle’s twenty-first birthday. 

It’s the middle of spring break.

And Eric is hot, single, and knows those Vegas boys won’t know what hit ‘em.

Unfortunately, his old teammates can’t miss work. (Translation: Jack gets custody of them in the break-up proceedings.)

Unfortunately, his current teammates can’t miss the epikegster. (Translation: They’re either too young or don’t want to wingman him.)

Unfortunately, his friends at GSA were already in Punta Cana, having booked way in advance. (Translation: Bitty was planning on Providence for his birthday.)

But you don’t turn twenty-one every day, so Eric Bittle is going to Vegas and taking shots and partying.

Fortunately, he knows someone who’s not in the Cup finals, and who knows Vegas pretty well.

It helps that they’d been bantering on twitter for the past few months. Before, well.

It’s been a couple of weeks. So Bitty plays it safe.

Bitty mentions him in a flirty twitter post (Know any cute sailors in Vegas, @kparse?) and gets a reply of exclamation points immediately, and a DM right after that.

 

_**Kent** : _

_Eric! You guys finally giving in and coming to Vegas?!_

 

_**Eric** : _

_I am! Leaving in a couple hours and staying for three days. Got any time to show me around?_

 

_**Kent** : _

_!!!_

 

Eric rolls his eyes and scrolls through Instagram while he waits for a real response.

 

_**Kent** : _

_I’m free! Totally free and at your mercy._

 

Eric grins. It’s gonna be a good weekend.

- 

Eric lands in Vegas at 5 sharp, and quickly realizes that Kent Parson is picking him up instead of sending a car, like he said he would.

He’s in the waiting area, holding a silly little sign that says “E. Bitz and J. Zimmz” and frowning down at his phone when Eric sneaks to his side and hip-checks him.

Kent looks up and around before he looks down and grins. “Eric!” he exclaims.

“Kent!” Bitty responds. 

Kent drops the sign and gives Bitty a massive hug, lifting him off the ground.

It’s been a while since Bitty’s been hugged like that, and a couple tears slip out as Kent puts him down.

“Bits? You okay?”

 Bitty sniffles and gives a wobbly smile. “Yeah. It’s good to see you.”

He grabs his bag and starts walking toward the parking lot as Kent apologizes behind him. “Sorry about the sign, I should have realized…you kept saying ‘I’ and I kept thinking ‘we’…” 

That stops Bitty in his tracks. “No, Kent Parson. None of that. Not tonight. Tonight, I’m not Bitty who’s just been dumped. Tonight, I’m Eric Bittle. I’m twenty-one, in Vegas, and you, my friend, are showing me a good time.”

“Well, let’s head to my place first. Get you settled in. And you can finally meet Kit!” Kent says, and Bitty knows the subject’s been dropped. Besides, he really is excited to meet Kit.

.

The cat hates him.

According to Kent, Kit just doesn’t like intruders, but Bitty knows the truth. The Kit Purrson, the only love of Kent Parson’s life, hates him.

From the second Bitty walked in the door, the cat’s been growling and scratching and circling around Bitty like she’s a lion instead of the tiny cat she is.

“Seriously, she’s like this with everyone,” Kent tries to tell him as he stirs the pasta. (‘No, Bitty,’ he had said, the second Bitty tried to enter the beautiful kitchen. ‘You’re a guest here, and I know my way around a kitchen, too.’)

Bitty takes a large sip of his white wine. “I can’t even get a cat to love me,” he says miserably and slumps onto the kitchen counter. “No wonder my boyfriend dumped me. And right before my birthday at that.”

“Aaand no more white wine for you!” Kent replies, deftly reaching for the stem of the glass while continue to stir the pasta.

But Bitty moves the glass before Kent gets a chance to grab it. “No. It’s my birthday and I’ll be miserable if I want to.”

With a sigh, Kent turns of the gas and leans on the counter to meet Bitty’s eyes. “But you don’t want to. You came out here for a reason. You only turn twenty-one once! Don’t waste it on moping over some guy. Let’s eat our dinner and then go out and take birthday shots and make out with strangers!”

Bitty’s response goes unheard because his face is being covered by his arms.

“What was that?”

Bitty lifts his head back up. “He’s not just some guy. I still love him,” he says and flops his head back down.

Kent scoffs. “Trust me. I know exactly who he is. And I know what it’s like to get your heart broken by him.”

Eric looks up at him curiously. This is the first time in their friendship that Kent’s admitted to being hurt by Jack. He’d suspected, but...

“And despite that,” Kent continues, “I figured out how to be on my own and have a great time and an awesome cat.”

Kit purs at that from across the room.

“Tonight, Eric Bittle, you’re turning twenty-one. For one night, forget about your love life and the idiots that occupy it. Be selfish. Enjoy yourself. And eat some pasta!” Kent finishes with a flourish, presenting him with a bowl of pasta Eric didn’t even realize was finished.

Despite himself, Eric smiles at the theatrics. “I guess I can have fun for one night.”

“That’s right! Go back to your moping tomorrow. There’s nothing stopping you from sobbing into Ben and Jerry’s tomorrow. But you only get one twenty-first birthday.”

“So what was yours like?” Eric asks.

Kent coughs and just says, “It was fine,” before turning around to serve himself some pasta.

Eric raises an eyebrow but lets it go. After all, they had partying to do.

.

Eric does a half-turn in front of the full-length mirror, scrutinizing his shorts and asking himself if they were maybe a little too short?

“Your ass looks great,” Kent says from the doorway behind him.

When Bitty turns to scowl at Kent, he’s faced with a professional hockey body in a very – he’s not quite sure what word to use – outfit. It looks…good. To say the least. Translucent, if he wants to say a little more.

“Come on, Eric, you look fantastic. Let’s take some shots and head out. Uber’s coming in five.” Kent turns around to get the alcohol and damn, his ass looks good in those jeans.

Bitty smiles to himself as he turns back to the mirror. He does look fantastic.

.

"So it's early enough in the night that the clubs are gonna be boring. You wanna stop by a pregame or just head straight to a club?" Kent's asking, but Bitty's a little busy looking at the fountain lights in front of the Bellagio.

It's a little mesmerizing, a little bizarre that Bitty's here, in Las Vegas, with Kent Parson. His ex's ex. The guy he was supposed to hate on principle, except he hasn't hated him for a long time.

He doubts he ever really hated the real Kent Parson.

“Eric? You listening?” Kent asks, interrupting his thoughts.

“What? Yeah, of course!” Bitty responds.

Kent arches an eyebrow. “Really?”

“No. I was just thinking. This is weird, right?” he asks, looking down at his sneakers.

“What is?”

“Me. Here. In Las Freakin’ Vegas on my spring break,” Bitty looks away. “Single.”

“Hey,” Kent says with a nudge. “It’s only weird if you let it be weird. Yeah we’re here, in Las Freakin’ Vegas. Single. And hot. And gay. And we should start hitting the town before all the ass hauls out of here.”

Bittle snorts. “Really? ‘All the ass hauls out of here?’ I’m the one from the south. Let me do the weird metaphors, hun.”

Kent laughs out loud, throwing his head back and holding onto his floral snapback. Bitty hadn’t noticed how pretty his eyes were until now. Well, he had, he wasn’t blind, but he hadn’t let himself _notice._ Before, Kent Parson was Off-Limits. With capital letters.

He’d been Jack’s only ex, rival and across the country to boot.

But now?

Now, Kent Parson is laughing at a stupid joke he made and his eyes are glittering with the lights of the Las Vegas strip.

Bitty lets Kent’s laughter die down a little before saying, “Let’s go to the pregame.”

Kent’s brow furrows. “You sure? I’m not pushing you either way. We can just watch the fountain all night for all I care.”

“Let’s go to the pregame,” Bitty says again. “I want to go. I want – let’s meet some of your friends.”

Kent grins a little. “I don’t know if you’re gonna love them or hate them, but they’re certainly something.”

.

They’ve walked over to a hotel all the way on the other side of the Strip, chirping back and forth, in a way that feels like they’ve been playing on the same team for years.

On their way up, Kent gives Eric the rundown of the people that are gonna be there.

“Okay, so there’s Danny, he plays for the Red Wings but played with us for a couple seasons. We’re going to his room. Swoops, obviously, and then there’s a couple others from the Wings and Paul from the Islanders – Danny’s boyfriend – because he’s out on an ankle injury and – “

“Kent, you don’t have to give me the rundown. I know hockey players” Bitty says with a laugh, “ And I’ll meet them all in a minute.”

“Okay,” Kent says, nodding, as if trying to convince himself of it. “Okay.”

And the elevators open.

.

Kent’s friends are, well, exactly what Bitty expected. They’re hockey bros, all becoming close from having been on various teams together, so they’re chirping each other and there’s a keg in the hotel room. But they’re all queer, and they’re all nice.

It’s a bit of a relief that he doesn’t have to deal with straight people, or people pretending to be straight, for a night. The rest of the gang seems to feel the same. Bitty finds himself chugging beer with some of the NHL’s best while chatting about the latest Drag Race episode.

It almost feels like home, chilling with these guys. Which is a lot to feel when you’re hanging out with friends of someone who is sort of a friend, sort of a rival, and sort of something else altogether.

But Tony, one of the Wings’s D-Men, is telling a long-winded story and Kent is laughing with him and catches Bitty’s eye, and Bitty can’t help but smile.

He hadn’t realized it before, but this is the perfect way to spend his twenty-first birthday.

He says as much to Kent when they’re pouring a round of shots, and he’s just as surprised as Kent looks when he says it.

“Well, it’s a pretty perfect night for me, too,” Kent replies leaning in close, and then rears back and says, “Speaking of your twenty-first, look at the time! We’ve gotta make some moves if we want to get those free birthday shots in you!”

And the spell is broken, a little, but Kent gives him an unsure smile as they pile into the Uber to head to the first stop of the night.

.

Apparently, bouncers at gay bars watch a lot of hockey, because they let their group into the rooftop club with just a look, although Kent makes a show about making them check Bitty’s ID.

As they slowly make their way through the crowd to a table, Kent grabs Eric’s hand and shouts, “Listen!”

It’s the opening beats to Run the World, and the next thing he knows, they’re both on the dance floor, jumping up and down and shouting the lyrics.

The music keeps playing, and Swoops comes over with some shots, and they’re drinking and laughing and everything is getting a little bit blurry for Bitty, except for Kent, who stays with him and grabs him when he starts to sway.

“Eric!” he shouts over the music, “I think we need to take a break!”

Eric nods, trying not to pay too much attention to his arms around his waist, and they walk to the table together.

Danny and Paul break apart from their makeout session long enough to let Kent and Bitty squeeze into the tiny booth, and Kent pours Bitty a massive glass of water orders, “Drink.”

Bitty giggles a little – he’s feeling pretty giggly right now – and does as he’s told. He takes a sip, and then he leans into Kent, joins their hands, and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Thanks,” he says with a grin before downing the rest of his water.

He’s enjoying Kent’s deer in headlights look a little bit too much when he feels Kent whisper, “You’re welcome,” right in his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

He’s sobered up a little, and he knows that if he turns his head just slightly, his lips will be on Kent’s, and the night will change drastically.

And he wants it to. God, he wants it. He knows he’s thinking a little bit with his dick, a little bit with his still-broken heart, but he wants it.

And tonight, Eric Bittle is twenty-one.

He’s just turned twenty-one years old, he’s had an amazing night, and he’s got a hot guy whispering in his ear and tonight, Eric Bittle is getting exactly what he wants.

He turns his head.

.                                                                                    

The next morning, Eric Bittle wakes up with a headache and the feeling that somethings about to come up his throat.

If you asked twenty-year-old Eric Bittle what his twenty-first would look like, he would have said something about a quiet night in with his brunette boyfriend.

Instead, Kent Parson is asleep next to him, and it doesn’t feel like the end of the world.

In fact, it feels pretty good.

The cat is growling at Eric from the bedside table – he must have taken her usual spot – and there’s a glass of water next to him that says “Future you will thank you –K.”

He sips at the water and can’t help but smile at the note. He thinks future him will thank him for a lot of things that happened last night.

As twenty-one-year-old Eric Btitle gets up to wash his face make them some hangover pancakes, he turns around to see Kent Parson still sleeping, and all at once, he thinks, ‘Twenty-one is gonna be okay.’

-End.

**Author's Note:**

> -Title is taken from Taylor Swift's masterpiece of a song, Delicate, which was the inspiration for this fic.
> 
> -Thank you to Georgia and Silvia for running this wonderful event. I'm so glad I could take part. :)


End file.
